World's End Dancehall
by Cleaver Girl
Summary: "I'm not here to stop you. I'm just here to dance." A oneshot based on the song and PV for World's End Dancehall.


**_Cross the borderline of black and white and  
Climb the stairway, up and up we go.  
Nothing good to do, just bored to death, hey  
Can I take your hand and steal you away?_**

She needed to stand there. If only for a while, she needed to stand there.

She, the girl standing alone on the towering rooftop, used both her hands to grasp the two ties that scraped her hair back, pulling it loose and letting the consuming colour of the ocean flicker around, allowing the long strands to engulf her.

It had grown too much. It was tangling more each day, no matter how many hours she spent trying to brush it, how many times she twisted bands over it. There was hardly any use in trying.

_How horribly symbolic,_ Miku thought.

**_Step and stumble, do you want to go on?  
Don't you worry, the altar is our floor.  
Toss and turn and dizzy up ourselves and  
Keep on dancing, you and me, right here now._**

Every time she had considered getting it cut, the nightmares would start again, waiting for vulnerability to be shrouded with the allure of sleep- then reaching their dark tendrils, too wispy for anyone to bat away, around her head to seep into her blood and bore through to her heart. She would wake up then, with that heart beating so quickly and irregularly that she believed it was fast-forwarding to the final throb of her chest. And sometimes she was disappointed to realise the truth was quite different.

So at those times, Miku did not make any plans to cut her hair. It made her feel better to keep it, not only as something constant and familiar to bury her face in, but as a kind of promise to herself.

_There's no point in doing anything about my hair. It won't be much use to me soon._

Not only that, but what did something so trivial matter? However exquisitely trimmed, hair alone could never be thick enough to cover her ears, to deafen her to the world. It was the_ voices_. The clawing, mocking words, often saturated with so much laughter that they were barely distinguishable.

**_Bury the room with all the shrill calls, voices_**  
**_Swirl the senses, down and down we go._**  
**_Nothing good to do, just bored to tears, hey_**  
**_Why don't we make a clean breast of it now?_**

As the fact occurred to her that being deaf would not have kept her mind safe from _them_ anyway, Miku reached into the thin pocket sewed neatly onto her black dress, the movement a sharp jolt to stop the incessant shaking of her hands from interfering. She held the folded navy phone in her hand and snapped it open, triggering an onslaught of beeping while the glass flooded to drowning point with notifications.

_New message. New message. New message._

She grasped onto the screeching device in anger and fear as each flash of shrill sound dragged another taunt into her view, screamed aloud in the echoes of her mind. She did not even completely recognise what they meant anymore. The painful tone was too clear in the overall blunt message behind it for her to care about the details.

Clenching her eyelids shut, she stabbed desperately at the keys, spelling out one simple message of her own.

**_Find the meaning of connecting with these simple words,_**  
**_Reason of disliking without seeing hers,_**  
**_Finding it, finding it, no meaning, no reason._**  
**_I gnash my teeth with my face smiling shy_**  
**_I smile with my eyes shut and everything black._**  
**_I don't want to bore myself with all that nonsense!_**

Miku leant over the metal mesh surrounding the rooftop, focusing on the cars roaring at their loudest, one by one. The barricade was pathetically short. She could lean over, and...

_Just like that._

The phone dropped out of her hand in a flick of her fingers, switching to point at the road. It seemed to take several seconds before the smash, and a few more before the crunch that brought on a slight flicker of satisfaction, or maybe a little bit of achievement. Of course, several of the few seconds perceived probably had not existed. But everything was moving at the wrong speed, out of sync.

It was a long way to fall, plenty of opportunity to gather speed, plenty of speed to crush its victim even before the constant and raging sea of growling machines. Despite the slow movement of all before her eyes, Miku recognised how quick it would be.

It was not fear that stopped her. It never had been. Whatever it was, she was grateful for it.

That was why she climbed up those stairs every day, to bring on the thing that held her back. Being able to fall, yet at the same time not...it made her think that there was a reason she could not leave. Not yet. The feeling existed, she knew it did, she knew how some people sunk knives into their skin and skin in turn into flames to bring it about, but doing such a thing would have felt too common and weak for her, not enough to capture the feeling.

_**Hop'n, step'n, may I have this dance?**_  
_**This is the world's end, shall we do the 'one, two'?**_  
_**Drink in all of this apocalyptism**_  
_**How about a little taste of daze and**_  
_**Tick and tock, the moment's moving on**_  
_**Shoot now, 'say cheese!', our time is running out**_  
_**'Round and 'round and going 'round and 'round**_  
_**Intoxicate, the world is getting high.**_

Staring down at the road, she could not see the phone. _Good, _she decided. It made Miku wonder why she had never taken the action before, that simple drop, a sharp end to at least some of the petty, spiteful stabs.

_I've never managed that before. _It scared her. The less she could do, the better...right?

For the first time in weeks of this little routine, she felt true fright at the proximity to the possible finale.

Weeks...it was clear that it was no longer a phase. People had told her that the feelings and vulnerability often never went away, and each day had only confirmed that. Even if a day went well, it was certain that another would follow, and another, and another, until the probability of one of them tripping her up became mercilessly certain. Each day was tiring, but she could not rest. She could not possibly rest. Every moment sitting in silence was a gap, perfect for being filled up with those voices. Those hissing voices that grew louder until they transformed into shrieks that pierced right through her and pushed her to the rooftop, leaning against a pathetic, thin barrier.

**_A special just for you bystanders  
Jump in the terminal, let's start the race.  
"Nothing good to do, just bored to death, hey  
Can I take your hand and steal you away?"_**

Then, maybe there was nothing to worry about with the phone. It could all be put down to simple logic. Who would want to keep a device solely used to receive all that could drive them insane?

She had only held onto that damned phone for this moment, to let that last word reach the one person who would care.

_GOODBYE._

Luka deserved that at least.

Miku. Luka. Was it true that what could break one girl could leave another collected, uncaring, gliding carefree through the crowds?

**_Something seems to be unusual, wrong  
Shall we believe in what's called "our fate"?  
Step and stumble, do you want to go on?  
No, no, how about making a fool of ourselves?_**

Well, Miku knew she was not like Luka. She could not simply ignore it all or live knowing that one day everything would have to be slowly torn apart before her.

_Luka is strong. I am not._

All the thoughts gathered together and rose up again throughout her body, making her shake.

_What's happening...it's too complicated! I can't figure all this out anymore! I won't carry on like this!_

She reached over the metal with both arms, sliding them down to a resting position where her hands hovered above the road. If she leaned a little more, she would unbalance herself and in that second, there would be no going back.

She hung there for several minutes.

"Miku?"

**_Find the meaning of repeating all these foolish moves,  
Reason to make steps as the music grooves,  
Finding it, finding it, no meaning, no reason.  
I just want to dance when I need a little blue  
I just want to laugh when I need a little tear.  
I don't want to hear any more of that ego!_**

The other girl stood opposite Miku on the rooftop, having just ascended the stairs. Her soft, defining, pink hair had also been shaken loose, floating behind her and blending into the cold air so gently that she hardly appeared real. Her expression was calm, as always, but there was a glint of seriousness shining behind her deep blue eyes.

"Luka? Why are you here?" Miku questioned her, pulling her arms back to her sides and spinning around defensively. Luka walked slowly towards her, remaining perfectly controlled in each movement. Then, only a step away from Miku, she paused a few seconds before giving any kind of reply.

"Because I know why you're here," she finally said simply, in her smooth voice. Miku, in contrast, began to panic and cross her arms.

"Don't stop me," she ordered, her voice shaking as she finally knew she had made her decision "Don't even try." Luka raised an eyebrow and reached out an arm. Miku took her hand unsurely, tilting her head in confusion.

"I'm not here to stop you. I'm just here to dance."

**_Pop'n sense'n, may I have this song?_**  
**_Before the world's end, shall we sing the 'un, deux?'_**  
**_My heart, it's yours. Can you hear the beat?_**  
**_No, no, not yet. I won't forget how._**

Spinning in the high winds of the altitude, twirling to the sound of the busy streets below, their steps were unplanned and clumsy, yet somehow maintained elegance. Too overwhelmed by the strangeness of the dance, Miku stayed staring into Luka's eyes, trying to make sense of whatever was behind them. All she caught were a few murmured words of a song.

**_Oh my, look and see, what a lovely view!_**  
**_There, there, the world's monochrome highway._**  
**_Crawl and creep, not a single piece will move._**  
**_Anyhow, it's dead, nothing's going to change._**

No, nothing was going to change. Nobody would ever understand.

The last verse faded away, but Luka did not let go of Miku's hand or step away. Miku tried to break the connection between the two of them by herself.

"I gave you your dance!" she protested "You said you weren't going to stop me!"

"Hmm? What's this? You think I would lie to you?"

"I...no..."

"There's still nothing wrong with us," Luka whispered.

In a swift movement, she let go of Miku's hand, but only to wrap her arms around her. And then, suddenly, they were both falling.

**_Hop'n step'n, may I have this dance?_**  
**_This is the world's end, shall we do the 'one, two'?_**  
**_Drink in all of this apocalyptism_**  
**_How about a little taste of daze and_**  
**_Tick and tock, the moment's moving on_**  
**_Shoot now, 'say cheese!', our time is running out_**  
**_Farewell, so long, have a nice day_**  
**_Goodbye to this World's End Dancehall._**

No time for words, no need for justifications, no screams that had not already been and gone. Only a sigh of relief hung in the air.

"Ah."


End file.
